Chibi Day Chronicles
by brokenseraphim
Summary: The legendary tales of Sandbox Gaara, the meanest bully around on the daycare playground…and his undying love for a certain ramen-loving kid. ChibiGaaraxChibiNaruto
1. Like a King

Summary: The legendary tales of Sandbox Gaara, the meanest bully around on the daycare playground…and his undying love for a certain ramen-loving kid. ChibiGaaraxChibiNaruto

**Chapter One: Like a King**

Iruka sighed, allowing two calloused fingers to rub wearily at his temples. "Okay." He exhaled exaggeratedly, trying to control himself. "Gaara, why did you throw sand in Chouji's face?"

The two-and-a-half foot tall three year old merely stared at him with those unnerving green eyes and slowly blinked.

The brunette growled underneath his breath, trying to calm himself down. It wasn't helping that the plump ball of squishy baby fat that was Chouji was sobbing into the fabric of his pants. "Okay, Gaara. Can you at least say sorry to him?"

Gaara stared at him again. God, Iruka didn't know a three year old had the power to make a grown adult want to piss his pants.

Tentative as usual, the red head ever-so-slowly twisted his neck and looked Chouji hard in the eye. The chubby boy looked back. He started crying harder.

With that Gaara walked away, strutting his way towards the playground once more and left Iruka to deal with the mass of sobbing, sand-covered chub fub.

Iruka muttered underneath his breath as he brought Chouji into his arms (with much effort) and gave him a small bag of chips which instantly quenched his sobs. "Kids these days."

* * *

Gaara sat like a king on the sandbox mound from a corner of the playground, surveying his subjects. He crossed his arms and patiently scanned the expanse of asphalt and woodchips for his target.

Hyuuga Neji was under a tree, poking at his cousin Hinata while muttering something about 16, 32, 64 hits. The poor girl was crying.

Ino and Sakura were busy giggling and playing with ribbons while fawning over Sasuke who was just sitting on a bench, attempting to look cool.

Rock Lee was kicking one of the bouncy horses, screaming something about the springtime of youth while Ten Ten was throwing pencils at a crayon-drawn in target.

Shino was in a corner hunched over a bush and probably playing with the bugs there. He got yelled at yesterday for huddling some caterpillars in his shirt pocket.

Ah—oh. _Oh._

A very dark, _oh_.

The green eyed boy fixated his stare on the set of slides where a certain blond haired someone was playing happily with Kiba, the dog-loving kid. A bit _too_ happily.

Gaara frowned. He didn't like happy.

The redhead waited for his chance to strike on this giddy happiness.

"Neh, neh! Kiba!"

"Yeah, Na-woo-toe?" Kiba had a chipped tooth that made him slur his words awkwardly.

Naruto slid down the slide and rubbed his bum when he landed awkwardly on the woodchips. "I need ta go pee—dattebayo!"

Kiba scrunched up his face. "Ew! Go tell sensei you nasty!"

Gaara smirked, such an evil smirk, it even scared himself. He watched his love walk away in his forest green shorts, one hand rubbing his butt, the other scratching his blond head.

It was finally time.

The red haired beast of a three year old stood, making sure to grab some sand in one small palm as he went. Menacingly, as menacing as a three year old could be, he strolled forward, eyes narrowed.

He could practically feel the fear emanating from the playground as he lurked towards Kiba's unsuspecting back. When he finally was right behind the dog-boy, he growled to make his presence known.

Kiba froze up and slowly he turned. Gaara noticed there were red triangles on his cheek drawn with red markers. He growled louder. Naruto had red markers.

"Ah." Kiba yelped when he saw the playground menace, Sandbox Gaara, right behind him. "Ga—Gaawa! Um…can I help you?" Kiba shuddered, ready to pee his pants.

Gaara glared at him.

Kiba twisted his tiny hands into pockets of his shorts, desperately stealing glances towards his other friends scattered across the playground but it was all in vain. All the other kids knew not to mess with Gaara. He was bad news.

Another growl from the shorter boy made Kiba turn his wide eyes back to him. It started as a low mumble, then mixed with an angry snarl:

"He. Is. Mine!"

All the kids watched as the redhead raised his tiny pale fist and opened it in a flurry.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHH." They prayed for their comrade Kiba from the bottom of their hearts.

* * *

Iruka rubbed at his temples irritably, having that dreadful sense of déjà vu pour over him. He glanced at the two kids in front of him, one crying and the other blankly staring ahead.

"Gaara," he sighed, already knowing he was fighting a losing battle. "Why did you throw sand in Kiba's face?"

The red head ignored him; his big green eyes were fixated on the blond boy across the room who was currently talking to Shikamaru.

_Shikamaru._

He growled underneath his breath, mumbling dark nothings, and walked out of the room towards the playground without heeding Iruka's threats of a time-out.

Gaara needed some sand, and he needed it now.

* * *

We all know a chibi Gaara is a ridiculously cute one, with SQUISH ME NOW stamped across his angsty, eyebrowless forehead. Love 'im.

Thanks for reading and remember to review!

bs


	2. Like a Boss

Summary: The legendary tales of Sandbox Gaara, the meanest bully around on the daycare playground…and his undying love for a certain ramen-loving kid. ChibiGaaraxChibiNaruto

**Chapter Two: Like a Boss**

Naruto was too preoccupied with glaring at his math worksheet to notice the pale green eyes leering at him from across the room. The poor boy stared and stared at the jumble of numbers on his paper but no matter how hard he narrowed his eyes, the paper refused to speak to him.

Math wasn't his forte.

Naruto turned to the boy next to him, unsurprised to see that he had already finished with his worksheet and was leaning back in his chair taking a nap.

"Neh, Shikamaru," he whined. "Won't you help me?"

There was no answer.

The blond pouted, tugging on the other's sleeve and bringing his face close. "Neh, Shika! Neh, neh, neh!"

"Leave me alone, Naruto." The lazy genius tugged his arm away from the smaller boy, frowning deeply with his eyes squeezed shut. "Do it on your own."

"But—but." Naruto was shaking the other boy in his chair out of a fit of passionate desperation. "I don't get it!"

Shikamaru yelped as he almost toppled out of his seat. Eyes finally open, he frowned disapprovingly at his blond classmate. "If you don't get it go ask Iruka-sensei."

"But I always ask Iruka-sensei."

"Then go ask again."

"But I _always_ do."

"Then it doesn't matter. Ask him again."

"But, _Shikamaru_," Naruto pleaded. The small boy clapped his hands together and pouted exaggeratedly at the dark-haired boy. "Please, please, please!"

Sighing deeply, the three-year old Shikamaru rubbed the back of his head and relented. "Okay. But you owe me."

"Yay!" Naruto punched a chubby fist in the air, ecstatic over his victory. With the genius Shikamaru fighting on his side, addition stood no chance!

Rolling his eyes at his peer's enthusiasm, Shikamaru pointed a finger at the first problem. "It's super easy. You're supposed to use your hands like this." He lifted his small hands up. "Two plus three means you start with two fingers then put together three more. Count them and together that's five. Get it?"

Naruto stared at him blankly.

Shikamaru groaned. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

Gaara was at his limit. If he didn't do something soon he was going to explode and destroy everything in that godforsaken room—even the teddy bears.

For the past ten minutes he'd been watching that damned Shikamaru put his dirty paws all over his beloved Naruto. Look at them flirting! And he touched his pencil, too! No one touches Naruto's pencil but Gaara!

The red haired boy was itching to terminate the lazy genius but without sand he felt powerless.

If only they were out on the playground, it would all be so easy! Gaara could just grab a handful of sand and finally put that dirty Shikamaru in his place. But no, no his nemesis, Iruka-sensei had locked the door to the playground and now he, Gaara, was trapped in this prison to be tormented by the cruel wiles of romance.

Gaara had even tried to knock open the door to the outside but Iruka-sensei had simply swooped down, picked him up, and carried him back to his seat. Curse his small body! One day Gaara would be big, too, and he swore that when that day came he would finally put Iruka in his place.

But now, now he would bide his precious time and watch his precious Naruto. But oh! What agony, what tragedy! Gaara felt his heart wretch as he watched Shikamaru and Naruto lean close to each other, arguing over god-knows-what.

The pain was too much for his feeble heart and he wrenched his eyes away. Fraught and distraught, Gaara forced his green eyes to look away from his beloved for a moment to survey the rest of the room.

Neji was still caught up with his addition, unable to figure out what the double of 64 was. Ino and Sakura were cooing at Sasuke who had glued his palm to his cheek and looked more like a chicken butt than usual. Lee was out of his seat and running circles around the room, yelling something about how one shouldn't waste the springtime of their youth sitting down. Tenten was busy sharpening her arsenal of pencils to dangerously sharp points. Shino was, as usual, muttering to himself while eyeing a fly that had found its way into the room.

To Gaara's sinister satisfaction he found that Chouji and Kiba, his most recent victims, were huddled together in a far corner. They were passing a bag of chips back and forth, attempting to comfort each other over their misfortune.

Putting the chubby-kid and the dog-kid in their place was one of the most gratifying moments of Gaara's long, three year life. He would show anyone who dared to touch his blonde that Naruto was Gaara's and Gaara's alone. Especially that Shika—

Gaara saw red. All at once, rage and shock—but mostly rage—jumped inside of him and for a moment, the boy was paralyzed.

There, across the room, Shikamaru was holding Naruto's hands. _Naruto's hands_. The dark-haired boy was holding the blonde's hands up, struggling to lift some fingers and bend others. It was all too much.

Enraged, three year old Gaara jumped from his yellow seat and stormed over to the chalkboard. Quickly, he went onto his tippy-toes and rubbed his palm across the board's green surface before swiping his fingers along the dust tray below.

Satisfied with his work, Gaara turned back to his mission. Green eyes glowering, teeth bared, Gaara lurked toward his target, his right palm gripping his collection of white chalk-dust.

Desperate times called for desperate measures

* * *

Wow. That was refreshing. I wanted to write something for so I decided to work on this story to warm me up. I dare say I think it worked!

Hope you enjoyed the melodrama of a three-year-old Gaara's love.

bs

P/S: Next chapter, I'm planning to feature Sasuke. And Naruto. And Gaara's reaction to SasuNaru. This has better as hell be good.


	3. Like a Chicken Butt

Summary: The legendary tales of Sandbox Gaara, the meanest bully around on the daycare playground…and his undying love for a certain ramen-loving kid. ChibiGaaraxChibiNaruto

**Chibi Day Chronicles**

**Chapter Three: Like a Chicken Butt**

Gaara glared at the flailing boy next to him, eyes threatening to dig holes into his forehead. The boy, however, seemed to be immune to his glare-of-ultimate-doom-and-despair™.

"Alright, Gaara-kun, let's give this race all the passion of our flaming youth!"

Somewhere on his forehead, Gaara felt a vein throb dangerously.

For their designated play-time, Iruka-sensei had decided to schedule a class event. Of all the things the evil man could have concocted, he came up with the worst possible idea of all: a three-legged race.

Initially, the small redhead had tried to maintain an open mind. After all, in the best case scenario, Gaara would be partnered up with Naruto. If that happened, the boy wouldn't mind dying then and there, in the arms of his most wonderful beloved. Oh, how Gaara wished it could be so.

But Gaara's hope betrayed him and Iruka-sensei, that accursed spawn of the boogey man, had instead decided to instill upon him the worst case scenario. Thus, did Gaara find himself, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, lips frowning deeply, as he contemplated about how he would inflict upon this Rock Lee the most violent demise possible.

To make this worst case scenario yet even worse, his beloved was partnered up with none other than _him_, Uchiha Sasuke—the second on his list of people to feed to his pet raccoon, the first of course, being Iruka-sensei.

Gaara didn't always loathe Sasuke. In fact, at first, one could even say that Gaara liked the other three-year-old boy. In him Gaara had felt a sort of kindred spirit. That, however, quickly changed after Sasuke began harassing Naruto. (But really, it was the other way around—not that love-blind Gaara would ever admit this.) Every day that stupid chicken-butt-head would pick fights with his Naruto and every time, Gaara would seethe. What only infuriated the poor redhead more was that no matter how many times he tried to perform his vengeance upon the Uchiha, he seemed to somehow wiggle his way around it. Gaara would admit he was a clever one, that chicken-butt-head.

After realizing that glaring at his overly animated partner would, in fact, not blow up the boy to smithereens, Gaara turned his head to fixate his glare on the aforementioned Uchiha. As he'd expected, Sasuke was already picking a fight with his poor love.

"You better not make me lose, Sasuke!"

The black-haired boy rolled his eyes. "That's my line."

"What did you say?" Naruto raised one chubby fist, great blue eyes glowering. "I triple dog dare you to say it again!"

"I said you're the loser here, dobe."

"You—"

"Okay class, line up at the starting line and get ready to go!" Iruka placed the whistle at his lips and motioned for the children to position themselves along the chalk line that cut through the playground.

"Finally!" Lee screamed in excitement. "It's time for us to show the passion of our youth! Are you read Gaara-kun? Gaara-kun? Wai—Hey—You're going the wrong way!"

Gaara only growled in response as he turned and made his way towards the sandbox on the other side of the playground. He would show Sasuke what he'd get if he dared to talk to Naruto like that, even if he had to drag along a kid with a bowl-cut and ADD to do it.

Lee yelped as he hopped haggardly on one foot, the other was being dragged along with the furious redhead. "Gaara-kun! The race, it's going to start soon. If we don't line up, we'll lose."

But the redhead heard nothing and continued to fight his way towards his arsenal of sand. That Sasuke! He'd show him, he would!

Lee, however, was panicking over another matter entirely. "Gaara-kun please, the race! Our youth depends on it and It's about to begin and-" The whistle went off.

First, all Gaara felt was a strange wind blowing along his ears, and then the world was turned upside down, and then, then, a sort of flying sensation.

It took the redhead a good five seconds to realize what was happening: Rock Lee was sprinting full speed ahead for the finish line, and Gaara, who was attached to him, was floating along.

How very strange.

The three-year-old only gazed blankly as the scenery passed by: smudges he thought must be other people, the green must be the grass, and, ah, yes, the finish line.

"First place!" Lee screamed at the top of his lungs, little arms straight in the air in a sign of victory. Beside him, Gaara merely lay limp on the ground where he'd fallen after the momentum of Lee's insane speed subsided. Mentally, Gaara moved Lee up the list from third to first.

"Eh?" Lee pouted. "What's going on?"

Finally returning to reality after fantasizing about how exactly he'd get Lee into Shukaku's mouth and into his tummy, Gaara picked himself up and stood. He looked over to where Lee was staring.

And his stomach sank.

Half-way between the start and finish line, the rest of the students had gathered into a half-circle and in the middle of that circle were none other than Sasuke and Naruto.

Perhaps they'd been shoved and lost their balance, perhaps they simply hadn't gotten the rhythm right, but there, on the grass, lay the two boys. On top of one another. Kissing.

Again, Gaara hit the ground, but this time, all he could see was black.

* * *

"Gaara."

"Gaara, wake up."

The small boy struggled his eyes open, squinting when bright light hit his pupils. Sitting up, he brought his hands up to rub at his heavy eyes. His brows furrowed and lips pushed out in an unassuming pout. Where was he?

"You finally woke up!"

Gaara blinked slowly and looked up, surprised to see his older siblings. Temari, who was six years old and the eldest, peered down at him in concern, a fan in one of her hands—explaining the odd breeze. Next to her stood Kankuro, who was five and, Gaara noted grimly, had once again made his way into their nanny's make-up drawer.

"Thank goodness, Gaara, you gave us quite a scare." The green eyed toddler glared up at Iruka who only smiled down at him.

Clambering down the sofa that he'd been laid down upon, Gaara looked up at his older sister. "What happened?"

The taller girl shrugged her shoulders. "I dunno. Sensei called us down. He said you fainted."

Gaara frowned, trying to remember what happened. It was all so hazy...he remembered being mad at that stupid mushroom-head Lee and then floating and then—oh no. Gaara remembered now, he remembered. He knew why he had fainted, why his head hurt and more than anything, his chest.

Without saying a word, the red-haired boy made his way towards the door, turned the knob and swung it open.

Kankuro, who'd previously been distracted by his doll—action figure—finally looked up. "Gaara? Where you goin'?"

Iruka frowned deeply, also rather confused with the odd turn of events. "Gaara, come back."

Of course, the toddler did not listen and only continued to walk out of the hallway and into the playground. He made his way towards the far end to his beloved sandbox. But instead of scooping sand into his palm and rushing into the classroom where the other kids must be, Gaara merely sat on his mound of sand sadly.

At the ripe age of three, Gaara was learning the meaning of heartbreak.

* * *

Yay, another chapter!

Also, I was thinking of changing up the fic's premise a bit. For example, for the next chapter I was thinking of forwarding a few years and writing about the cast's experience—and Gaara's romantic woes—in elementary and after that, junior high, high school, and so on. I think it'd be lots of fun, but tell me what you guys think of the idea!

Thanks for reading. Support is much appreciated,

bs


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